


Xerophyllum

by KivaEmber



Category: Hades (Video Game 2018)
Genre: Blood and Injury, Canonical Character Death, Childhood, Complicated Relationships, Drabble Collection, Gen, M/M, Non-Chronological, Parent-Child Relationship, end game is thanatos/zagreus tho, or hades tries (and fails), pretty much random scenarios
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:20:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22900858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KivaEmber/pseuds/KivaEmber
Summary: A collection of drabbles and oneshots about our favourite fire-stepping Prince Zagreus#9: The God of... - kid!Zagreus & Thanatos
Relationships: Thanatos/Zagreus (Hades Video Game)
Comments: 57
Kudos: 366





	1. Youthful Gods - Achilles & kid!Zagreus

Achilles first met Zagreus when the young god was still that: young. 

Gods aged differently to mortals, taking both an eternity and barely any time at all to mature into some semblance of adulthood; though, perhaps ‘mature’ was too strong a word, considering the childish fickleness all gods were seemingly afflicted with. With these entities existing so wholly outside of time, it was always difficult to place an accurate guess on their age, but with Zagreus, it had been easy at a glance. 

A young, spritely boy, with embers licking at his soles, his dark hair a bird’s nest and his red tunics rumpled and untucked from its sash. He barely reached Achilles waist, if one ignored the extra inch his autumn-coloured laurels granted him, its leafy points jutting upwards like facsimile horns. 

Were it not for the fiery feet and mismatched eyes (one the dark green of young tree’s leaves, the other red as freshly spilled blood), Achilles could have easily mistaken the young lad as a noble’s boy, strutting and confident in place in the world, despite being leagues deep in the Underworld. It had taken him an embarrassingly long moment to remember that his Master had a son, and that this must be him. 

Achilles heard that this son, Zagreus he recalled, was embroiled in a complicated situation. Complicated in a way only Gods could make it so, and marvelled that after spending both an eternity and a mere instant in Lord Hades’s House, it was only  _ now _ he laid eyes on the mysterious and complicated young god. 

Perhaps by design. Lord Hades jealously guarded his son’s life; to a fault, Achilles thought uncharitably. The lad was all but imprisoned here, just like the rest of the souls shambling these halls, and god or not, Zagreus must be unbearably bored out of his wits. 

“Hello!” The young god greeted him, not at all shy or hesitant as he approached him. From his position in the West Hall, Achilles could see the Master’s desk lay empty. Perhaps this lapse in vigil was why Zagreus was now loose upon the House’s halls, roaming about and chatting to strangers without his father looming heavily over his tiny shoulders. 

_ I should send him back to whence he came, but what’s the harm in entertaining the lad for a moment? _ Achilles thought to himself. 

“Hey there, lad,” Achilles greeted, leaning his non-existent weight on his spear as he peered down at the boy, “Prince Zagreus, I assume?”

Zagreus wrinkled his nose, “Ew,  _ Prince _ . Just call me Zagreus.”

The young god paused then, a calculative gleam in his eyes. Achilles braced himself for some typical godly trickery, but instead- 

“Are you Ak-kil-lease?” Zagreus sounded his name out carefully, yet still mangled the pronunciation, “You have the spear.”

Amused that one of his identifying features was ‘man with a spear’, a trait most Greek soldiers shared during his lifetime, Achilles lifted an eyebrow, “And if I am?”

Zagreus rocked onto the balls of his feet, bouncing excitedly. Little plumes and licks of flames spilled over the floor from where his heels met it, yet didn’t leave a single scorch mark. 

“Is it true?” the god asked, leaning in slightly as his voice dropped into a low hush, “Was your heart in your ankle?” 

Achilles took a moment to digest what he was just asked, “... what?”

“Your heart! In your ankle!” Zagreus peered down at Achilles’s feet, or, what ghostly remnants remained, “I’m not very good with mortal bodies, but, um, I think that’s a weird place to put it.”

Ah. He was asking about  _ that _ . 

Achilles’s Death! How many variations of his demise had he heard from passing souls? Too many to count, enough so that it coloured his own memories of the incident. Had it been simply an arrow to the heel, severing an artery and leaving him to bleed to death? Was it poisoned? Was it due to the will of one of the fickle Olympians? Achilles honestly couldn’t remember himself. 

“No, lad, my heart wasn’t in my ankle,” Achilles said with some morbid humour, “I just had a spot of bad luck.”

“Bad luck…” Zagreus repeated thoughtfully.

“One of the leading causes of mortal deaths,” Achilles admitted, thinking back to those hazy days of life, of soldiers dying or being crippled due to  _ bad luck. _ It really was a horrible thing, that affliction, “And other unfortunate events.” 

“I think I have bad luck,” Zagreus scowled, casting a quick look over his shoulder at where the Master’s desk sat empty, “Being born  _ here _ .”

Achilles said nothing, sensing they just waded into dangerous waters. The young boy puffed out a short breath, glancing over at him, and, briefly,  _ briefly, _ despite the youthful face, his eyes seemed older than the seasons that flew by on the surface. A heavy weight and a faint memory flickered to the forefront of Achilles’s mind, of sea salt and grit under the fingernails and a dash of copper in the mouth. Dying and living at once. 

But it was very brief. The boy  _ (god _ ) smiled, dispelling that odd moment. 

“So, if your heart wasn’t in your ankle,” the boy said, “does that mean the other stories are untrue?” 

Achilles shook off the lingering, strange feeling, resigned to the odd phenomenons that dogged these gods’ steps, and smiled back; “Some are embellished, but are based in truth, lad. Which one do you want to hear about?”

Zagreus’s eyes lit up with happiness at being indulged, and that odd moment drifted by again; a pleasant sort. Of sitting amongst sweet, fresh grass, a peach in hand and resting between hardships. 

That moment lingered overly long, but Achilles didn’t mind it at all. 


	2. Good Parenting; Or, An Attempt - Hades & kid!Zagreus

Sometimes, Hades wasn’t sure how to manage Zagreus.

His son was young still, the equivalent of a child by a god’s standards, but he was irritatingly  _ mobile  _ and  _ curious. _ He wanted to stick his nose into everything, inspect every corner and crevice of the House, pester the House’s denizens for any scrap of attention, stick unknown objects in his mouth to figure out what they were - honestly, it was like having another Cerberus about the place, except this one had  _ thumbs _ and could  _ climb _ . 

This last fact was an important one. 

“Boy,” Hades gritted out with all the taut patience he could muster, “Get. Down.”

Zagreus, cheeky brat that he was, just gave him a look of pure innocence, as if he wasn’t currently sprawled belly-down on Hades’s desk, splotches of ink staining his fingers, a quill held clumsily in a clenched fist. Beneath the dark tip of the feather, a half-done doodle of Cerberus was barking at the cramped print of Hades’s paperwork. 

“But I’m drawing,” Zagreus said, pointing at his doodle, “Look, it’s Cerberus.”

“You can draw at your own desk, boy,” Hades reminded him, tilting his head in its direction. It was a small desk, miniscule beside his own, but it had its own neat stack of untouched paperwork, minor, unimportant tasks that was designed to ease Zagreus into the management of the Underworld’s maintenance. There was even a small stack of coloured chalk and plain paper for the boy to draw on when he got bored, Hades willing to turn a blind eye if it meant he sat well-behaved and quiet - but no. 

No, instead Zagreus decided to squat on  _ his _ desk, scribbling on his paperwork with his quill, and making a general nuisance of himself. It was like he was  _ trying _ to bring Hades’s annoyance on him! 

( _ Which, he was half-correct in assuming. It was more Zagreus desired his focused attention, negative or otherwise, having found that quietly doing his assigned work mostly had him forgotten about)  _

“It’s boring there,” Zagreus complained, “And there’s no one to talk to.”

Hades exhaled heavily through his nose, scrunching his eyebrows together. There was so much he wanted to say, but recently he had noticed Zagreus became belligerent if Hades launched directly into a lecture on his duty and future. But, if Hades was too lenient, Zagreus took advantage and kept pushing his boundaries until Hades lost his temper, which always ended up with the boy languishing dramatically at his feet in a full blown temper tantrum.

Unfortunately, such melodrama ran thick in their blood - not even Hades was immune to it - and he  _ hoped _ that as Zagreus matured, he would learn to suppress that side of him. Hades was getting tired of signing the task orders to buff the scorch marks off the floor. 

“Besides,” Zagreus continued blithely, as Hades deliberated over his battle plan, “This looked all dull and bleh. Now it doesn’t!”

Proudly, his son pushed over the paperwork he’d been doodling all over. Multiple Cerberuses, each one more deformed than the last, were chasing random, eldritch abominations in the margins, with one, giant dog head barking at the signature block, a speech bubble drawn crudely around it. Between these amateur drawings, fat splotches of ink marred some of the words, making it difficult to ascertain  _ what _ , exactly, this paperwork was even  _ about. _

Hades took another deep, steady breath as Zagreus beamed at him. The brat knew  _ exactly _ what he had done. He all but exuded  _ mischief. _

“...if you insist on making a nuisance of yourself on my desk,” Hades said evenly, suppressing the urge to yell (always a fast track to one of Zagreus’s infamous temper tantrums), “Then do so when ruining your  _ own _ work.”

Zagreus cocked his head, his eyes bright, “But I can do that up here?”

“Do not make me repeat myself,” Hades growled, and Zagreus quickly scurried off his desk with a cheeky giggle. He heard the boy land clumsily on the floor - a quiet ‘ _ oof’ _ and the scuff of heels against the floor - followed by the loud, rumpling rustle of paper, and then- 

Zagreus clambered back up like an overgrown monkey, his work crushed messily against his chest with one arm. He looked cheerful, pleased with himself for getting his way, and Hades rolled his eyes as his son resumed his sprawl, spreading his paperwork over the desk and mingling it with his more important documents. 

“Let’s see, what  _ important _ stuff needs my attention today?” Zagreus declared in a comically deep voice. It took Hades a moment to realise he was imitating him, “Underworld Renova-  _ renovations _ ! This is to, um, ‘fill in the cracks in pillar #4, Tartarus Chamber #9’. Approved~!”

Hades’s eyebrow twitched, but he ignored the boy’s loud, obnoxious imitations. Zagreus continued on like that for a while, occasionally glancing his way, but slowly the boy became quieter and more subdued when he failed to get a rise. Eventually, the boy went completely silent, diligently working on his duties with a small, focused frown -  _ as he should’ve been from the beginning. _

Hades chalked that as a win, in his books. A successful management of his son with minimal fuss and dramatics. 

_ (Except, what he fails to realise is that raising a son is not like conducting a battle or outsmarting a foe - but to be fair, good parenting isn’t exactly something that comes easy to gods, for various reasons)  _


	3. Childhood Friends - Thanatos & kid!Zagreus

"Than!"

Thanatos's feet had barely touched the floor when Zag launched towards him like a ravenous numbskull, latching onto his waist in as tight a hug as his small arms could achieve. Thanatos grunted from the force of it, a noise that quickly eased into a soft, indulgent laugh.

"Zag," he greeted, patting the young god on the head, "I wasn't even gone that long."

"You  _ were _ ," Zag grumbled into his chest, giving him one more squeeze before he detached and took half a step back.

Thanatos automatically looked him over. Unlike mortals, whose development stages strictly adhered to a timetable of sorts, Gods aged and grew depending on the concept they presided over. This could be an instantaneous process like with the Furies, who sprung fully grown and armed from Cronus's blood, or a long, gradual one - like with Zag.

Sweet, little Zag. The youngest god to date, and still stuck in his childhood stage. No one could remember if any other god took this long (Thanatos recalled himself and Hypno maturing quickly, as mortals slept and died as swiftly as they bred) , but it wasn’t necessarily a  _ bad _ thing. It could, in fact, just be simply because of  _ who _ and  _ what _ Zagreus was: the new God of Rebirth.

( _ Rebirth, Thanatos knew, was never a quick process, but a slow, long subtle thing that never really stopped. It was eternally young, forever fresh and brimming with vitality, while everything else aged and grew stale. Maybe the answer was that Zag would  _ never  _ grow up) _

But this time, there was a minor change. Maybe it was because Thanatos  _ had  _ been gone for a while, but Zag looked a little taller, more coltish in limb and less puppy fat. Maybe he was finally hitting a growth spurt?

Zag noticed his scrutinising and puffed his cheeks out in a pout, "What?"

"You've gotten taller, Zag," Thanatos said, corner of his mouth twitching into a smirk, "I don't have to bend my neck as much to see you."

Zag made a face, like he knew he was being teased but too pleased at his boost in height to be overly annoyed about it; "Yes! I've grown a full  _ inch _ ."

"A whole inch?" Thanatos lifted his eyebrows in faux amazement, "Wow."

"It's very wow," Zag agreed, and rocked back and forth on his heels. He looked up at him coyly, his mismatched eyes sparkling with expectation, "Soooo? Does that mean I'm now old enough to…?"

"Old enough to…?" Thanatos prompted when Zag trailed off with a meaningful look. Sorry, Zag, he didn’t understand those silent eyebrow waggles.

"Old enough to go outside!" Zag said exasperatedly, "Everyone kept saying 'no' because 'oh, you're too young' or 'you're too short!' But I've grown now, and if I go with you, it'll be okay, right?"

Immediately, Thanatos's stomach dropped, his smile becoming a grimace. Ah. 

"You're…" Thanatos sighed when Zag  _ immediately _ started to scowl, "You're too young, Zag, sorry. I'll get in a lot of trouble if I take you outside without permission."

Zag looked down at the floor, taking a deep breath. Thanatos tensed in anticipation, but Zag swallowed his frustration and looked back up at him with a forced smile. He was getting good at managing his temper.

"Okay. I don’t want you to get in trouble," Zag's smile became steadier, less of a pained grimace, "When I'm even taller, then?"

"When you're even taller," Thanatos echoed, even though he wasn't sure. He understood why Hades kept Zag so close, but he also understood that Zag was probably going insane from sheer boredom, locked up behind these walls. It was a situation that would come to a head one day - maybe not now, maybe not for centuries, but eventually Zag was going to try going his own way. Even, no,  _ especially _ if it meant coming into conflict with Hades over it.

( _ That was the thing about Rebirth: it wasn't flashy, it wasn't powerful, but it was stubborn and enduring and happened whether you liked it or not) _

Thanatos was dreading that moment.

"It's a promise," Zag said, oblivious to, or merely ignoring, the tense moment, "So, how long are you here for?"

"Only for a short while," Thanatos said, quickly latching onto the topic change, "I'm very busy."

"You're always busy," Zag huffed, but he reached out and took Thanatos’s hand, tugging it expectantly, "But you have time to play, right?"

"Yeah," Thanatos said, smiling as he let Zag pull him along, "I can make time for you, Zag."

"Well,  _ good, _ because Father has taken Cerberus somewhere, and all Hypnos does is  _ sleep _ . I've been so bored I thought I'd  _ die. _ "

Ah, Zag was so melodramatic, "If you died of boredom, you'd just end up in the Pool."

"Right?" Zag looked indignant, "Even  _ dying's  _ boring."

… what a disturbing statement, "What about Mother?"

"She's gone somewhere too," Zag pouted, but there was an anxious edge to his posture that he was failing to cover up, "The House is, uh, quiet today."

And Zag could never leave it. Thanatos felt that guilty squirm in his stomach, but he didn't know what he could do about this whole situation. Zag was  _ vulnerable _ , a young god with no real means to protect himself until he fully matured, and the Underworld was no place for the defenceless - nor the Surface, for that matter. 

_ Also, less chance for the Olympians to find out about him, if he stays here,  _ Thanatos thought darkly, feeling an ugly chill spill down his spine at the thought. The less exposure Zag had to them, the better. 

"But it's fine now you're here," Zag continued, brightening at the realisation that yes, Thanatos was  _ here _ , “I like playing with you the most.”

It took every scrap of willpower for Thanatos to keep his face straight, feeling a surge of fondness for his young friend, “Oh? Even more than Cerberus?”

Zag blinked, then looked torn, “I- um, well… maybe the same? Oh, oh no, don’t tell Cerberus! I think I told him I liked playing with him the most earlier…” 

“Ah, I see how it is,” Thanatos mock-sighed, “So, this is the fickleness of gods…” 

“Noooo! No, Than, I meant it! I like playing with you the most! But I, uh, also like playing with Cerberus the most too, so…!” 

Thanatos hid his grin behind his hand as Zag flustered comically. Ah, maybe Zag _was_ taking a while to grow up, but really, it wasn’t a bad thing at all. It was nice that Zag was growing up without the worries they all had when the world was young and cruel, that most of his attention was not on scrambling for a place in the world or enduring the scorn of the Olympians, but on whether or not he might hurt Cerberus's feelings by saying he liked playing with Thanatos. Such a harmless, innocent worry. He preferred Zag focused on those, more than his circumstances or what lay beyond these walls. 

“Okay, okay,” Thanatos said, swinging their clasped hands and cutting Zag’s flustering off, “Your secret is safe with me, Zag. I won’t tell Cerberus you like me best.”

“Than! I didn’t say that…!”

“Oh? So you  _ don’t _ like me best?”

“I- oh, come on, that’s mean…!”

Yeah, Zag was fine as he was. 


	4. Redblood - Thanatos & kid!Zagreus

In retrospect, Thanatos probably should’ve known this would’ve happened when he saw Zag with a knife. 

It was a weapon clearly designed for an adult, too big for Zagreus’s small fingers to properly grip the handle, but wherever he got it from, whoever gave it to him, Zag handled it with a deftness that bordered on uncanny, a subtle reminder of his godly heritage as he absently flipped the knife up and caught it by its tip on its descent. Up, down, up, down, up, down, in a constant, monotonous rhythm. 

“Should you be playing with that?” Thanatos asked him, finally peeling off from the shadow he’d been lurking in. This time of day (night?) the lounge was fairly empty, with only a handful of apathetic shades loitering by the bar and tables. Zag cut a lonely figure, sitting on one of the bar stools, flipping the knife over and over from sheer, absolute boredom. 

“I don’t know,” Zag said honestly, catching the knife and turning to him with a bright smile, “I didn’t know you were back, Than! Are you staying?”

“Only for a little bit,” Thanatos said, stifling a sigh when Zag immediately looked downcast, “I have a lot of work, Zag.”

“I know. I know, you’re busy…” Zag muttered, leaning on his elbow on the bar and flipping the knife back up. Thanatos tracked the weapon’s movements absently, “ _ Everyone’s _ busy.”

“You would be busy too, if you helped your father out a bit more,” Thanatos reminded him pointedly. He’d noticed that large stack of untouched paperwork sitting on Zag’s desk, a constant reminder that the young prince was eternally shirking his duties. There was some forgiveness for it, though, considering he was still a child, but that excuse wouldn’t hold water forever. 

“Ugh,” Zag wrinkled his nose, a rare flash of ill-temper flaring up, “Help him out with  _ what _ ? All I sign for is, uh, work orders for pillar cracks and- and replacing broken tiles and  _ things. _ It’s not important  _ at all _ .”

Zag’s next knife flip was more aggressive, a sharp, frustrated flick of his wrist, sending it flying a little higher, out of its rhythm. Thanatos noticed only at the last split second, though, just as Zag’s fingers automatically went to grasp the tip that  _ wasn’t _ there, only the naked edge of a blade-

_ “Zag-” _ Thanatos snapped, but-

-too late. 

Zag made a weird, high-pitched noise as his fingers closed down hard on the knife’s blade, a whole body jolt almost making him slip off his stool. They both froze, Thanatos tense with anticipation as Zag stared at him, wide-eyed and a little pale, as if slowly realising what he’d just done. 

_ ‘Thp’ _

The splash of red, a tiny droplet hitting the bartop, spurred Thanatos into action just as Zag started to look at his hand. 

“Ah- give that here,” Thanatos said quickly, taking advantage of Zag’s stunned surprise to snatch his hand and carefully loosen his grip around the knife. He barely looked at the weapon as he set it on the bar roughly, ignoring the clatter of metal and, without thinking, grabbed a fistful of his tunic to stuff against Zag’s bloodied palm, applying pressure and drawing a shocked hiss of pain from the young prince. 

It jerked Zag out of his (eerie, worrying) quiet stillness, and without missing a beat, the prince gasped out; “ _ Blood and darkness _ !”

“Language,” Thanatos scolded automatically, checking Zag’s expression. The young god, thankfully, didn’t look like he was going to burst into tears (Thanatos honestly wouldn’t know how to deal with  _ that _ scenario, it’d be awkward), but his expression was pale and tense, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he stoically attempted to endure the injury. 

...a minor injury, one that wouldn’t bother a god overly much, or even register but- 

_ Redblooded, like a mortal, _ Thanatos thought to himself, realising this was the first time he ever saw Zag bleed,  _ Will he realise that…? _

“ _ Owwwww,  _ o w, ow, ow _ … _ ” Zag whined, more theatrically than genuine, kicking his legs out a little and almost catching Thanatos in the thigh, “That really stings, Than…!”

“And whose fault is that?” Thanatos sighed, easing the pressure on Zag’s palm, peeling back his now bloodied tunic to see that the bleeding had stopped. The young god’s palm were smears of red, the cuts across his palm and the inside crease of his fingers angry red and fresh, but… they were healing, slowly but surely, before his eyes. 

Thanatos could feel the prickle of… something, too. God’s blood was where their power was most potent, had some uses in certain rituals and the like, and Zag’s  _ brimmed _ with something fiery and ashy and bottomless. It wasn’t an unpleasant sensation but it was an alien one, metallic and sharp, but also like rotting vegetation and loam soil. It reminded him of- lava fields that had buried a city beneath its molten bulk, or a primordial forest, corpses tangled thick in its undergrowth where life sprung anew amongst the decomposing flesh.

It promised potential for something truly inevitable, and Thanatos carefully mopped up the lingering blood with his already soiled tunic, putting those thoughts aside to dwell on later. 

“You’re lucky this wasn’t too deep,” Thanatos said, pulling back and letting Zag ease his hand away from his, “If you were mortal, you could’ve lost your fingers, you know.”

“But I’m  _ not _ mortal,” Zag said a little sulkily, cradling his hand close to his chest. The cuts were already scabbed over, and Zag frowned down at them, rapidly blinking suspiciously bright eyes, “Oh, they’re already going away.”

“You’re a god, it’ll take more than that to seriously hurt you,” Thanatos reminded him, reaching to awkwardly pat him on the head. Honestly, he was just relieved this hadn’t ended in literal tears. The mere thought made cold shivers go down his spine, “That doesn’t mean you go grabbing naked blades again, though, Zag. That was careless of you.”

Zag pouted, “I know, I know. Um, please don’t tell Father?”

Thanatos kept his face blank, “Will you play with that knife again the moment I leave?”

Zag opened his mouth, no doubt to lie through his teeth about it, hesitated underneath Thanatos’s even stare, and squirmed on his seat, “Hmm, mmm, mmmmaybe…?”

Thanatos lifted an eyebrow. 

Zag wilted, “Okay, I won’t.”

“Then I won’t tell,” Thanatos said, and, just to keep Zag honest, he picked up the knife. Its blade still glistened bright red, “And I’ll be taking this.”

Zag grumbled, but otherwise didn’t fuss. Instead he inspected his palm, tilting his head side to side like those bird creatures on the surface, “This kind of tickles, now…”

“That’s becau-  _ don’t _ pick at it, Zag.”

“But it itches!”

Thanatos sighed heavily. Really, he adored Zag, but he was also so exasperating! Hopefully a trait he will grow out of when he matures…

“And why does it look all  _ weird _ ?” Zag continued, “It’s all red and sticky. Should it be red and sticky? I thought only mortals’ blood was like that?”

...darkness. 

Thanatos was quiet for a moment, unsure on how to even respond. A god having red blood meant there was a dash of mortal in them, somewhere, but if Zag was the son of Hades and Nyx, neither of whom had a drop of it in them, then he shouldn’t  _ have _ that unless something unconventional happened during his, er, conception. Zag was a child, but he wasn’t stupid. He’d understand the discrepancy quickly enough and ask questions. Or go snooping and open a whole can of worms that was better left buried. 

So, instead Thanatos said; “I don’t know. Maybe you’re just strange.” 

“Hey!” Zag looked comically insulted, “I’m not  _ strange _ !”

“You have strange blood,” Thanatos said, poking Zag in the forehead, “That makes you strange.”

Zag was unable to argue against this logic, much to his obvious displeasure, so he clumsily changed the subject instead; “Well, um, well since you’re here, do you want to play for a bit?”

“I’m too…” Thanatos hesitated when Zag’s hopeful face fell, already anticipating the rejection. He really was busy, and had lingered too long dealing with Zag’s antics as it was, but… ergh. He couldn’t indulge him forever, but when Thanatos  _ wanted _ to indulge him, it got hard to say no. He had to learn how to, though, for both of their sakes. 

“I’m too busy,” he finished, “Sorry, Zag. But, next time, I’ll play with you.”

Zag looked at him with an unreadable look for a moment, and then- smiled. Thanatos couldn’t tell if it was forced or not. Zag was getting good at hiding his disappointment recently, he found. 

“Next time,” Zag said easily, dropping his mostly healed hand onto his lap, “We can play with Cerberus too! If he’s… around…”

“Sure,” Thanatos said, ignoring the guilty squirm in his belly, “I’ll see you later.”

“Bye, Than!” Zag said cheerfully, giving him a wave - the last thing Thanatos saw before he slipped into the spaces between reality, to reach the surface. It was then, in that last split second, Zag’s disappointment shone through. 

Thanatos tried to put it out of mind. They both had their duties. Disappointment was part and parcel of that. 


	5. Lessons - Hades & kid!Zagreus

The aftermath of Persephone’s departure made things… tense. 

The House, already sombre as a graveyard on most days, was impossibly quieter after her absence, everyone creeping about as if on explosive eggshells around the rumbling, simmering volcano that was Lord Hades. The only silver lining to the entire situation was that Lord Hades was mostly too preoccupied with his work and the young prince to properly erupt, instead stewing on his betrayed anger, an anger that cooled and fossilised as time passed, and it was that knowledge that had the poor shades muttering;  _ ‘thank the gods for Prince Zagreus.' _

(The Prince whose parentage was never verbally discussed, except in meaningful glances, head tilts, and the vague, passing comment on the timing of his birth - well out of Lord Hades’s earshot of course) 

While Lady Nyx did, indeed, assist in the care of the Prince, there were certain things Lord Hades insisted on dealing with himself; namely teaching him to be literate and how to ‘speak’, all in preparation for his future duties. This tended to distract him entirely, due to how resistant Zagreus was to the whole thing. Still, both of them persisted: Hades in his lessons, Zagreus in being as difficult as possible. It brought a whole different tension to the House that overshadowed Persephone’s departure.

“Elocution,” Hades repeated distractedly, signing off yet another shade to their intended destination, “Say it again, boy; El-o-cu-tion.” 

“Elo- que…” Zagreus cut himself with an annoyed sigh, “Speakin’ lessons.” 

Hades chanced a moment to glance at his son. The boy was sat on his thigh, his work spread out on the edge of the desk under Hades close supervision - it was awkward, it meant he could only use one half of his desk and one hand, the other boxing Zagreus in in case he decided to do another daring escape (the boy, much to his chagrin, was impatient and fidgety. It was now automatic to scruff his son when he tried to wriggle off his lap and hide under the desk in an attempt to avoid his lessons). 

“It is not ‘speakin’ lessons’,” Hades said severely, “You are not even bothering to apply yourself.” 

Zagreus grunted low in his throat, fidgeting bad-temperedly with his quill. Since Persephone’s departure, the boy had been irritatingly belligerent and gloomy, even if he didn’t fully recall who had left. Nyx said such melancholy would soon pass, but Hades was finding the entire thing aggravating.  _ He _ had already moved on, so why was the boy languishing so on something no longer worth his attention?

“I don’t understand why I need to,” Zagreus finally whined, “I’m not a  _ baby _ , I talk good.” 

“You talk  _ well, _ though that is in clear doubt,” Hades muttered, “Impeccable literacy skills are required to take up the duties of this House, and I refuse to allow my progeny to suffer a subpar performance in both his eloquence and comprehension. Do you understand?” 

Zagreus frowned at the papers on his desk - the uneven scrawl of his handwriting lessons, letters carefully spaced but suffering a tendency to slowly slope downwards at an angle. Hades might need him to practice writing with a ruler to train that habit out of him.

“...yes,” Zagreus finally said, though he didn’t sound overly pleased about it, “But, um.”

Hades barely bit back the urge to prompt him, as Zagreus trailed off into uncertain silence. His son was an unpredictable sort, and he tended to react to Hades’s sternness with either resentment or hurt silence, both which had grown in potency since  _ her _ departure. It was aggravating, frustrating and tested Hades’s patience to its very limits but… 

But Zagreus was all he had left, beyond the monotonous, endless procession of the dead and Underworld renovations. Though it did not come naturally to him, Hades would make these compromises and concessions for the boy (not that he felt he’d get any gratitude for it). 

“We’ve been doing this for  _ ages, _ ” Zagreus sighed after a very long, taut silence, one where Hades diligently continued processing the line of shades approaching his desk, “For  _ ages _ ! I’m going all- all  _ cross-eyed  _ from all this writing and reading and  _ elocution.  _ And my hand hurts...”

Zagreus enunciated ‘elocution’ perfectly. Hades knew the boy could do it, if he just  _ focused _ , instead of complaining. Youth, honestly.

“And so you feel you need a rest, is that it?” Hades asked, “I would be amenable to that… if you can complete your remaining tasks with minimal fussing.”

Zagreus looked as if he’d rather cast himself into the River Phlegethon, in typical Olympian melodrama. He groaned, flopped dramatically over the desk, and kicked his feet so his heels hit Hades’s knee over and over. Hades stoically endured the childish temper tantrum. Zagreus just wanted attention, but Hades needed to teach him he wouldn’t get it from these dramatic showings. 

“This will not finish those tasks faster,” Hades said mildly, after one particularly hard kick caused a few licks of embers to cascade down his shin, “You are only prolonging your own misery, carrying on like that.” 

“ _ Faaaatherrrrrrr… _ ” Zagreus whined. 

Hades ignored him. 

“ _ Ugh! _ ” Zagreus sat up, irritably picking up his quill-pen and sullenly getting back to his exercises. With exaggerated, dramatic motions, the boy picked up a new piece of parchment, aggressively scratching out words and dripping ink blots over half of his work. Zagreus muttered darkly under his breath, snatches of  _ ‘stupid words’ _ and  _ ‘dumb old man’  _ heard amongst the otherwise unintelligably grumblings. Hades almost rolled his eyes at his performance. 

Blood and darkness, it was like dealing with Zeus all over again. 

…

Hades firmly squelched  _ that _ thought. No. He would not tolerate Zagreus growing up into someone like  _ him. _ The world could survive only so many egotistical oafs existing at one time. 

“Once you have finished your pleonasm exercises,” Hades said over Zagreus’s grumbling, “We will continue with your  _ elocution _ until I am satisfied. Then, and only then, will you be finished with your work, until the next time I can continue your lessons.”

“Yes, Father,” Zagreus said with all the resentment his young soul could muster.

Hmph. The boy can scowl and huff all he likes - he will thank him later for his impeccable speaking and literacy skills. Both will serve him well, in ensuring these Underworld renovations are completed before the end of time. 

If it also helped in distracting them both from a presence no longer there, then, well, that was just an added bonus. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> since in one of dusa's convos, zag mentions hades himself insisted on teaching him on how to speak and the like, so i just imagined this. i have a feeling zag was probably really frustrating to teach academic stuff, being so impatient and unable to sit still! hades must've had his hands full when zag was a kid huh
> 
> i'm open to prompts too, btw! if there's certain stuff you want me to write or cover. no promises i'll write it but i'm always up for getting ideas~
> 
> thank you all for reading! don't forget to kudos/comment if you liked!


	6. Easy Death - Hades & Zagreus

Hades was forced to handle Zagreus’s rebellion himself. 

It had been a burden he had hoped to avoid, that the Underworld would succeed in stonewalling his bullheaded son’s futile endeavour and make him realise this was where he  _ belonged _ . Yet Zagreus’s impossible, unflagging determination and stubbornness overcame even the Underworld’s dizzying attempts to misguide and delay him, dragging his carcass closer and closer to the edge of his domain, until…

Until it culminated in this moment. 

Hades derived no pleasure, no satisfaction, in Zagreus’s brief expression of alarm upon seeing him bar his way, in the way the boy skittered back half a step, in the shadows of the temple’s gates, as if to retreat, before striding forwards with false bravado. From a glance, Hades already knew the confrontation was his; Zagreus was teetering, bloodied and bruised from his frantic clawing up from the Underworld, exhausted beyond all measure. It must have been obvious to the boy too, that he had no hope of winning. 

Still. His son, his stubborn, idiotic son, met him head on without flinching and his sword raised. 

Hades could commend him for that, at least. 

* * *

In the end, it finished exactly how Hades thought it would. 

Zagreus was fast - nimble, agile, adaptive, Achilles taught him well. The boy lacked the brute strength to bring Hades down swiftly, even with his infernal kin lending their aid, but he was  _ fast. _ The way he  _ somehow _ managed to  _ just _ dance or dash around Hades’s spear-strikes, avoiding fatal injury, was getting infuriating, but Hades tempered his agitation, herded the boy into a corner - something the boy realised only when it was too late. 

A feint - left, snow kicked up where the boy pivoted sharply on his heel, dashing for the right in an attempt to break out into open ground - safer, for him, more room to move, breathing hard, desperate, casting aside grace for success-

-the spear caught him in the ribs with a wet, cracking  _ squelch _ . 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Hades had prepared himself for it, this inevitability. He had seen his son perish in a myriad of different ways, traversing the Underworld, spilling his blood over and over and breaking his body over and over. Hades thought he’d be indifferent to it, or stoic, it wasn’t anything new. He’d long since been resigned over Zagreus’s insistence on torturing himself like this. 

But it was  _ different, _ when it was  _ his _ hand holding the spear. It was  _ different _ when Zagreus cried out in agony, dropping his sword and frantically grabbing at the spear as he awkwardly hunched over it, trying to squirm free of it like a worm skewered on a fishing hook. That fraction of a moment, as his boy’s soul spluttered wildly like a bird trapped in a too small cage, death snuffing out its embers, Zagreus stared at him with an almost child-like betrayal. Bewildered. As if he couldn’t believe his Father actually slew him, no matter how meaningless death was to him now.

As if, up until this moment, Zagreus genuinely thought that had been a line that wouldn’t be crossed. 

“ _ Whhhhghck…?” _ His son gurgled, weakly pawing at the the spear-shaft and-

Nothing. 

The light went out of his eyes, he slumped over dead, and that was that. 

Hades let the sudden deadweight lower his spear, until Zagreus was resting face down in the snow. Steam rose from where hot blood pulsed onto it, a brilliant scarlet against the white. The air stank of metal and spilled innards. 

“This is for your own good,” Hades told his boy’s corpse, knowing he wouldn’t hear. Zagreus’s soul was as soft and dimmed out as cooling embers, just waiting to be stoked back to life. That won’t be for a while, yet. 

Carefully, even though it didn’t really  _ matter, _ Hades eased his spear out from its place in his son’s chest cavity. Zagreus didn’t stir, didn’t twitch, and when Hades bent down to snag the back of his tunic with one large hand, his boy was already as cold as the ice around them. 

“Foolish boy,” he muttered, hefting him up. He didn’t turn him over, kept Zagreus dangling from his hand, face-down, unwilling to see what expression his boy made as he died. It was easier to think of when the boy would inevitably wade out of the Pool of Styx, thoroughly indignant and brimming with frustrated determination. It would mean that next time (because he knew without a doubt there will be a  _ next time _ ) Zagreus would come at him with the intent to kill. 

(For, there had been some hesitancy there, from his son. Subconscious, perhaps, or maybe plain naivete...)

Hades dragged his son’s corpse back into the temple, over to where Charon waited at the temple’s docks, his expression inscrutable beneath the heavy shadow of his cowl. Whether he approved or not of Hades and Zagreus’s conflict, he knew not, why he was helping his son, he knew not, he only knew that Charon would do this much: 

“Take him home, Charon,” he said, handing his son over to the Stygian boatman. 

And that was that.

A line had been irrevocably crossed, and as Charon took his son’s corpse onto his boat and began his journey back into the depths of the Underworld, Hades felt as weary and old as the temple he stood in. He had hoped to avoid this ugly business, but never let it be said he shirked from unpleasant necessities. This was for the boy’s own good. 

(He had to keep telling himself that, to make each encounter easier and easier) 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


(It did not, get any easier). 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i always wondered how hades felt about the whole having to kill zagreus himself hmm


	7. Curiosity - Thanatos & kid!Zagreus

“Than, why do mortals die?”

Thanatos paused at the question, glancing at the young god seated next to him. They were both in the lounge, a compromise on Thanatos’s part, as he was not in a speaking mood but Zag didn’t want to leave his side. The stools, while hard and uncomfortable, provided marginally better comfort than the unyielding, cold marble in the West Hall - Thanatos’s favourite place to brood. 

Zag was watching an apathetic cluster of shades congregated around a table, his chin resting on an upturned palm and his feet lazily kicking out, flecks of embers drifting from the movements where they snuffed out upon touching the floor. He was frowning. 

“Mortals die because… they do,” Thanatos said a little lamely, never having really given it much thought. He knew his purpose was to harvest mortal souls that died from natural causes, or illness or exposure, things like that (violent deaths were more of Ares’ speciality, thankfully), but he never really questioned  _ why _ it was. It simply was. It was his duty. Mortals died. He collected their souls. Nothing more to think about. 

“But why?” Zag looked at him, his expression alight with a curiosity that was always so close to the surface, now that Lord Hades allowed him a bit more freedom around the House. Zag wanted to know how  _ everything _ worked, and  _ why, _ and was never satisfied with the answer ‘just because’. He seemed to think there was an explanation for everything, or a reasoning, even for gods, and it gave him a ravenous, insatiable hunger to  _ know _ . 

It was endearing, if a bit strange. Gods didn’t tend to be curious like that. It was mostly a mortal trait.

_ Maybe he’ll grow out of it, _ Thanatos thought (hoped), struggling to come up with a satisfactory answer as Zag waited expectantly. The young prince was still at that age where he thought Thanatos knew  _ everything, _ and Thanatos, weirdly, didn’t want to disappoint him. 

“Because, their… mortal shells are weak,” Thanatos said very slowly, the concept slowly taking shape in his mind as he spoke, “The soul is the only immortal thing about them, but the physical shell isn’t. So, when that… dies, their souls come down here. That’s. Dying.” 

There. That was a satisfactory answer, right?

Thanatos hopes were dashed when Zag frowned at him and said; “But… why?”

“Why what?”

“Why are their ‘mortal shells’ weak?” Zag tilted his head, his mismatched eyes intensely focused on him, “Did someone make them like that? Why?” 

Thanatos wondered why Zag couldn’t exhibit this amount of concentrated dedication to his  _ work, _ instead of this childish curiosity. Gods, this was going to be like the ‘where did I come from’ fiasco all over again.

(A fiasco where, upon understanding that Zag was asking where babies came from in general, had been quickly foisted onto Mother’s lap, allowing Thanatos to beat a hasty, albeit mortified, retreat from the entire situation) 

“They just are,” Thanatos said stoically, shifting his weight uneasily, “Mother might know more, or, Lord Hades.”

“But you’re Death?” Zag frowned even more, “You, um, so, they die and you take them, but you don’t know why, even though you’re involved?”

“...” Thanatos honestly, genuinely, had no idea how to confront this random interrogation, “...that’s just how it is, Zag.”

“Hrm,” Zag crossed his arms and stared ponderously at the far lounge wall. It was such a Hades-like expression it weirded Thanatos out for a short moment. 

“I don’t get it,” Zag finally said, “What’s the point of mortals being alive, only to die and come  _ here _ ? Why aren’t they just born here like me? It seems easier.”

“Living for mortals is a lot different to existing in the Underworld, Zag,” Thanatos said, easing up now that the topic had shifted somewhat, “It’s  _ very _ different.”

“Oh, it is!” Zag brightened abruptly, turning to him with a sparkle in his mismatched eyes. The petals that drifted from his laurels glittered with a sunshine yellow, exuding a pleasurable sort of happiness, “Achilles- um, sir- him, the spear-man in the West Hall. He told me a few stories of the Surface, and mortals, and it sounds exciting!”

Thanatos bit the inside of his cheek, to hold back his grimace. 

“Exciting is… one way of putting it,” Thanatos said stiltedly, unsure if Zag understood what situation the mortals were enduring on the Surface. Probably not. What frame of reference did he have? People told him ‘a war is happening so lots of mortals are dying’, and Zag would nod and say ‘yes, of course’, but did he really understand what a  _ war _ was? Did he even understand how  _ many _ mortals could die in a single day, because of one battle, or one natural disaster? The myriad of ways mortals suffered and despaired, most of it because of their own faults and foibles, and the rest because the Olympians meddled in their affairs?

Of course not. Zag was entirely ignorant for how awful the Surface was, didn’t know of the various cruelties the world was capable of inflicting on people, gods or mortals or otherwise. Zag was sheltered like that, and all Thanatos could think was  _ ‘thank the gods’. _

Maybe it was selfish but, Thanatos didn’t want Zag to become jaded like the rest of them. He did bring a revitalising  _ brightness _ to the House, just from his cheerful warmth and natural kindness. A miracle, considering the neurotic mess the rest of his family was… 

_ Hopefully, he  _ **_won’t_ ** _ grow out of that, _ Thanatos thought to himself. 

“You’ve been to the surface, right, Than?” Zag said, oblivious to the pensieve air about him, “Is Achilles right? Is it exciting? He says mortals fight each other a lot, but they can’t fight all the time. It must get boring after a while.”

Oh, you sweet summer child. If only mortals thought the same. 

“... they don’t fight all the time, that’s true,” Thanatos said carefully. Blood and darkness, this entire conversation felt like he was gingerly walking on stepping stones on the River Phlegethon, “Other times they…” Ah, what did mortals do that wasn’t dying- “Farm. They farm.” 

A dangerous occupation for mortals - a lot died of sickness from farming. Lung disease, mostly, or from fecal contamination in their food and drink. Thanatos made sure not to share this fact. 

“ _ Farming _ !” Zag exclaimed, leaning forwards with deep interest, “...what’s that?”

Argh. “Er, growing crops- plants. Raising animals. To eat.”

“Oooh…” Zag sounded thoroughly awed despite Thanatos’s stumbling explanaion, “What kind of animals? Like Cerberus?”

Thanatos couldn’t hold back the amused cough that left him at that, imagining  _ Cerberus _ … “N-No, no. Not like Cerberus. They have different animals for different food sources. It’ll… take a while to explain.”

“And you’re busy,” Zag sighed, his curiosity immediately fizzling into expectant disappointment, “Right?”

“...right,” Thanatos said awkwardly. He had overrun his brief break by like,  _ a lot, _ indulging Zag like this. Lord Hades would ask questions if he did it too often in a row, even if the excuse was in entertaining his son and therefore keeping him out of his hair. 

(No,  _ especially _ if the excuse was entertaining Zagreus. Lord Hades seemed adamant in ensuring Zag could exist like an emotionally isolated rock like himself, something which Thanatos knew, deep in the very core of his soul, would end poorly. Zag was too…  _ Zag, _ to be cold and closed off like that, or survive it anyway)

But. 

“I can find something, that can explain it better than me, anyway,” Thanatos said quickly, a plan already taking shape, “You’ve ran out of books to read, haven’t you?”

“I’ve reread everything three times by now, yeah,” Zag said sullenly. 

“Mortals have plenty of literature about these things,” Thanatos said, trying not to think about how bringing a mortal book from the Surface into the House was something Lord Hades would no doubt (loudly) disapprove of, but there was no  _ rule _ against it. Until such one formed… this seemed like a good compromise, right?

He was good at those with Zag: compromises. 

“I’ll get you a book about it,” Thanatos promised, and he felt a weight of  _ something. _ Like the universe missed a short step on a flight of stairs, and sent his Fate stumbling a few inches to the left of where it was going before. Something fundamental shifted, but not in a bad way. 

Zag  _ beamed.  _ The young prince looked as if he was offered an entire cauldron of ambrosia.

“Really?  _ Really, _ Than?” Zag bounced in his seat, “I’ll love you forever if you do!”

“Ah, hm. We’ll see if I can find anything…” Thanatos mumbled, unsure on how to deal with all that  _ happiness _ being directed so strongly at him. It was nice, but it made him want to squirm and teleport a thousand miles away at the same time. 

“But I do have to go,” he continued, “I’m already late.”

“Okay,” Zag said, for once not looking thoroughly crushed or disappointed at his departure, “I understand. I’ll see you later, Than.”

Thanatos nodded, pulling on the weaves of space, to travel to where he was needed most, “Behave while I’m gone, Zag. Do your work.”

“Ergh,” Zag wrinkled his nose, “Okay,  _ fine. _ I’ll do a little.” 

With that, Thanatos teleported, his mind already on his assigned task; not on the reaping no, but on where the hell he’ll find a mortal book on  _ agriculture. _

Seriously. What did he get himself into...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> zag's room has a lot of books, and i like thinking he's an avid reader, if only because it was probably his main source of entertaining before he decided dying in weird and exciting ways escaping hell was a lot better
> 
> (also imagine zag just knowing the most randomest of shit bc than would bring back mortal books on random subjects, so zag can explain why fallow fields are a thing but also doesn't know what a cow is)
> 
> also thank you all who have kudos/commented (and who have read)! it's much appreciated ;;w;; i'm glad people are enjoying these short little drabbles~


	8. 8: True Fan - Supportive Red Shade & Zagreus

The Elysium arena fights followed a script.

A challenger would enter. King Theseus would make a rousing, boisterous speech. Asterius would snort. The fight would commence.

The pair would win. Every time.

It was a boring but comforting certainty. The battles were flashy, true, and entertaining in their own way, but when one already knew the outcome of the fight? It tarnished it, somewhat.

The nail-biting uncertainty of who would be the victor! The rush of excitement as the battle advantage wildly teetered from side to side! Ah, the Red Shade missed that (figurative) heart-pounding enjoyment. They missed it a lot.

Until one day (or night), the script… changed.

A new challenger arrived at the arena. Theseus made his boisterous speech. Asterius snorted. The fight commenced, after a bit of banter from the challenger.

The new challenger lost, as per the script but.

He made them work for it.

* * *

Red Shade learned it was Prince Zagreus, that challenger.

And now was his second attempt. The Prince was seemingly immune to the jeers and catcalls descending from the crowd, more focused on trying to stay upright without looking like he was on the verge of collapse. The white cloth of his tunic was stained a reddish brown, remnants of a spear wound that was slowly knitting shut just under his ribs.

Two against one, with the one already injured and exhausted. To Red Shade, it didn't seem like a fair fight at all.

The Prince seemed to think so as well, his voice managing to be heard over the jeers as he complained; "Two against one is hardly a fair fight, is it?"

"Silence, blackguard!" Theseus boomed.

The crowd hooted at the insult, but Red Shade watched the Prince. His expression was one of grim determination, his gaze fixed past Theseus and Asterius, towards the door leading out of Elysium. He didn’t have the same imposing presence as Lord Hades (nor the height or girth, for that matter), but it didn’t lessen the impact of his unyielding defiance. He was going to fight as desperate as a cornered animal with nothing to lose, and he was going to make it look _good._

Red Shade was enraptured.

The battle began. Even when exhausted and wounded, the Prince dragged the whole thing out, bobbing and weaving between the pillars, evading Asterius's mighty blows, the precise volleys of Theseus's spear, relying on his wits and agility to stay ahead of two physically stronger foes. It wasn’t always graceful, it wasn’t always perfect, but he made it _work_!

Red Shade found themselves gripping the arena railing, leaning forwards in excitement. _Come on, come on!_ They thought feverishly, _you can do it! You can do it!_

And it looked as if he _would_ \- the Prince managed to trick Asterius, luring the bull’s wild charge right into Theseus’s raised shield, leaving the pair reeling from each other in a bewildered stumble. The Prince used that moment to get breathing room, plumes of red wisping from a spell about to be cast from his hand and-

"Lady Aphrodite!" Theseus cried, recovering too fast for the Prince to get the cast off, "Give me the strength to defeat this fiend!"

"What-?!" The Prince squawked in betrayed surprise, rapidly backpedalling when Lady Aphrodite began smiting the ground at his feet, "Who's side are you on _nngh_!?"

Lady Aphrodite's blow struck true. The Prince reeled wildly, disorientated by the fizzling burst-spark of pink and godly smiting - and stumbled right into the path of Asterius’s axe. 

_‘THWUNK!’_

A meaty thump, and that was that. The Prince collapsed, dead before he even hit the floor, his side a gaping wound from where the axe had almost bisected his torso. The crowd _cheered,_ screaming wildly as ominously, the bubbling red ooze of the River Styx pushed through the cracks of the arena’s floor, subsuming the god’s corpse and whisking him back to the depths of the Underworld.

Red Shade slumped, disappointed.

Ah, he almost had them!

* * *

The third time rolled round.

The Prince was in better shape, less injured, more cautious, wielding an ominous shield instead of a sword this time. Once more the Prince tried to talk his way through, despite Theseus's self-centred goading.

It didn’t work. The fight commenced.

The Prince's tactics were different this time. He was still fast and nimble, but he used the advantage of his shield to deflect the blows Asterius rained down on him, his agility to evade Theseus's launched spear, his wits to keep the pair separated by the width of the arena. Slowly but surely, the Prince gained the advantage.

By ignoring Theseus except to evade his spear (much to the king's growing outrage), the Prince succeeded in _bringing down the Bull of Minos!_ A burst of pale blue, Asterius crumbling into motes from the edge of the shield cutting into this thick neck, a shocked gasp rippling through the crowd - it was now one against one!

 _He's close!_ Red Shade thought frantically, almost throttling the barrier, _You can do it, Prince!_

"Your turn, King!" The Prince snarled, hefting his ominous shield, sweating and bruised and bloody and filled with a fire that had Red Shade's (figurative) heart pounding. The Prince was a mess, he was exhausted, but the sheer, overwhelming defiance he was exuding made Red Shade think _he's gonna win!!_

"Foul fiend!" Theseus spat, crashing his spear against his shield in a taunt, "I'll make you pay for that!"

It wasn't just the Red Shade now; everyone was screaming themselves hoarse, a mix of **_THESEUS_ ** and **_ZAGREUS_ ** roaring over the arena with such deafening volume, the gods on Olympus must have heard it. Red Shade couldn't speak - they were too tense with anticipation, but their soul felt fit to burst as if they _were_ screaming at the top of their lungs.

_You can do it, Zagreus!!_

The two enemies clashed, the Prince becoming more aggressive, smashing his shield against Theseus's to unbalance him, using his godly speed to dart around the king’s reeling form to strike the unprotected back. It became a wild, vicious dance, the both of them frantically trying to crack through each other's defences to deliver the killing blow, twisting and dancing from fatal strikes.

Then;

"Lord Ares!"

The gods intervened once more. The Prince was ready for it, but even with his agility and shield, splitting his attention between evading Ares's blades and Theseus's spear made him prone to mistakes.

One blade to the ribs. A spear to the thigh. A blade to the calf. A spear to the gut-

Done. The Prince died once more with a wordless, choking gurgle around an inch of steel in his throat. The River Styx bubbled up from the arena floor once more to reclaim him.

The arena shuddered with cheers - but also a few disappointed boos.

Red Shade booed the loudest.

* * *

Fourth time.

The Prince brought a bow this time and was faster than ever.

He led Asterius around with fleet feet and a volley of arrows crackling with lightning. The crowd went wild when Asterius fell once more, and the Prince turned his arrows on the infuriated Theseus.

The fight came down to the wire. Lord Poseidon lent his aid to Theseus, Lord Zeus to the Prince. The arena erupted into swirls of steam and lightning and ozone, the thunder drowned out by the screams of the crowd. It was close. It was so close! No one knew who would win!

A death cry! The crowd hushed, the steam rose and-

The Prince was once more subsumed by the River Styx, Theseus standing over the oozing puddles of red panting and filthy. His hair was standing on end, scorch marks on his tunics. It was a victory hard fought and clearly won by a mix of luck and skill.

A groan rippled through the crowd. Red Shade cursed loudly.

_So close!!_

* * *

Fifth time, the Prince brought a peculiar weapon with him: the Adamant Rail.

It was the most explosive battle in all of Elysium's history, as the Prince decided the best tactic was to carpet-bomb the whole arena with the Rail's launched grenades. Though, perhaps it’d be more accurate to say that it was less tactics, and more that the Prince was very clearly venting his frustrations at these two obstacles by blowing them up as much as he could get away with.

The crowd ate it up. Red shade worried. Won't those explosions hurt the Prince too?

Theseus, pressured by all these explosions erupting around him, called upon Lady Demeter. The goddess froze the grenades, minimised the detonations, and the Prince's curses could be heard loud and clear over Theseus's boasting.

The fight was shorter than most, and the Prince didn't defeat either Asterius or Theseus, but he had absolutely devastated the arena and blasted the two so much their tunics were merely scraps of cloth. A few wolf-whistles rose from the crowd.

Probably an unintended side effect to the Rail, that.

* * *

Sixth time: back to the bow.

The Prince suited the bow quite well, Red Shade thought, watching him fluidly evade Asterius and Theseus both, his accuracy and speed borderline supernatural. It took a god to be able to aim and draw so swiftly while under so much aggressive pressure.

Red Shade was, admittedly, getting an admiring crush.

The Prince switched up tactics this time, focusing on Theseus with a grim single-mindedness. It seemed to make things more difficult for him, when the gods came into play, the arena becoming a noisy mess of flashes and snow and water, but he managed to-

"King!" Asterius roared, and Red Shade gasped when the snow flurry cleared enough to see Theseus dissolve into pale blue.

"Now you, Bull-man!" The Prince jeered, but he sounded winded.

Asterius snorted furiously, reared back to charge. The Prince nimbly darted back-

-and slipped on one of the slick patches of ice dotting the arena.

Red Shade _gasped_ in horror. What bad luck…!

The stumbling Prince took Asterius's charge full on, smashed into the nearby wall with a sickening _'crrrrnch!'_ and did not get up when he crumpled to the floor in a broken heap.

The crowd collectively hissed in sympathy. What a way to go.

Red Shade groaned, hitting their forehead against the railing. Blasted Fates!

* * *

Seventh time: again, the bow.

In a strange twist, the Prince's arrows were blessed by Lady Demeter - the one indirectly responsible for his last death. The ice slowed Asterius's fatal blows, made Theseus's spear throws sluggish, opening up vital points for the Prince to ruthlessly exploit.

And oh, ruthlessly exploit he did.

Asterius was slain first. Theseus bellowed in fury. The Prince was immediately upon him, drawing back his bow despite the shield held up in defence and-

His arrow pierced _right through!_

Red Shade screamed in delight, and the crowd roared with them as Theseus reeled in agony and bewilderment. The Prince barked out a vicious noise that was too vindictive to be called a triumphant laugh, and the scales tipped in his favour at last.

Theseus, despite Lady Artemis's late aid, fell cursing the Prince’s name.

The Prince seemed to stand there in an exhausted daze as Theseus's body dissolved into pale blue specks, his broad shoulders heaving from his strained panting, fingers drawing a cutting tension on his bow. He looked just as stunned as the crowd, a moment of pure silence and-

Everyone _cheered._

 _"ZAGREUS! ZAGREUS! ZAGREUS!"_ the whole arena howled, and Red Shade couldn't help but smile at how the Prince looked around in open astonishment - and then beamed with a bright, warm kind of proud relief.

 _You did it!_ Red Shade thought happily, _You did it, Prince!_

The Prince didn't linger. With a self-conscious, embarrassed wave of his hand, he hurried through the doors leading out of Elysium. Red Shade waved him farewell, their heart a mix of wistfulness and happiness. 

Ah, they'll miss him. This was the most excitement they had in _eternity._

* * *

The eighth time happened.

The Prince stormed in with a clear mission in mind, overriding Theseus's boastful speech and launching right into it. Red Shade, confused at his abrupt, angry appearance but pleased to see another of his fights, cheered him on.

He won, by the skin of his teeth, but he won.

He didn't even stay to soak up the crowd's cheers. He practically sprinted out the second Theseus's body dissolved, his mind clearly elsewhere.

Red Shade worried. He seemed a bit upset there, didn't he?

* * *

Ninth time, the Prince finally _noticed_.

He won again, of course, faster and smoother and with less of the terrifyingly cold focus of the last match. As the Prince looked about at the cheers, still looking a little confused and intimidated at the noise, his mismatched eyes settled on the Red Shade.

Or, the banner below the Red Shade.

It took every scrap of willpower for Red Shade to not duck below the seats when the Prince trotted over with bright, curious eyes, despite his clear exhaustion. Tried not to combust from embarrassment as the Prince studied their banner and- _smiled_.

"Have I got a fan?" He murmured to himself, sounding absolutely awed at the thought. He looked up, at the Red Shade, and bowed theatrically, "Well then; I dedicate my victory to you, my good shade!"

Oh.

Oh gods.

_Oh gods, the Prince noticed-_

But before the Red Shade could untangle their tied up tongue to stutter out a thanks (or fannish gushing), the Prince was already off with a cheerful wave.

Red Shade almost kicked themselves but- next time. Next time! They'll say something!

* * *

Tenth, eleventh, twelfth, thirteenth, fourteenth…

Every time, after each match, the Prince would walk up to Red Shade and dedicate the match to them. Each time was genuine too, not just going through the motions. The Prince looked so _happy_ each time that someone was supporting him, who didn't cheer him only when he started winning the match.

Yet, still, Red Shade couldn't make themselves say anything! They felt too embarrassed, self-conscious, _nervous_ , every time the Prince approached them, could only manage a nod and a wave before the Prince hastened away. He didn't seem to mind, but Red Shade did!

If only they could tell him how much his determination and battle prowess inspired them! That they admired his spirit, his skill, his wits and adaptability, a breath of fresh air to the otherwise stale battles of Elysium. If only they had the courage to, even though they knew this admiring crush would go nowhere… 

Well, until they gathered that courage, all they could do was continue to support the Prince! Every match, win or lose, they will be here with his banner, and cheer him on with all of their soul!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sgg pls let us give nectar to the supportive red shade PLS
> 
> (also i know demeter boons don't appear until you first get to the surface but uh /handwaves vaguely yeah. also i did this on my phone when iw as stuck in work so pls excuse any. mistakes.)


	9. The God of... - kid!Zagreus & Thanatos

Zagreus wasn’t quite sure what vital function he performed in the Underworld’s workings. 

He knew some of that ignorance was because he was still a child, so his powers (if he even had any!) were still in the process of- of growing? Taking shape? Zagreus wasn’t sure, and the long stretches of time yawning before him made him brood over it a bit too much, maybe. It didn’t help that  _ everyone _ he knew had a job, made certain he knew they had jobs, and that they were  _ very busy _ doing these important jobs and if he could get out underfoot for a while that would be great, thank you very much. 

It made Zagreus feel like, well, a burden. 

Mother gave him platitudes, about how his Fate was in his future, waiting for him to grasp it, but he was sure she was just saying that. Out of all of her children, Zagreus felt like he was the useless deadbeat. Father certainly said it enough times that he was starting to think it was  _ true _ , and not just Father being a sour crabapple as per usual.

(He didn’t know what a crabapple was, but a passing shade mentioned the saying once and he liked the sound of it, so sour crabapple it was, until another dead mortal said something that fitted Father’s stern countenance better) 

Zagreus tried asking about it a few times, subtly at first, then frankly after being brushed off, but everyone just sort of…  _ circled _ the issue uneasily. Either no one  _ knew _ what his function was, or they just didn’t want to tell him, for whatever reason. Was it a god thing? Was he meant to ‘discover it himself’? Well, if that was true, he’d like a hint at least! 

Or, maybe, he was the god of  _ nothing _ ? But then, he might as well be one of these shades, pointlessly milling about the House’s halls and occasionally getting yelled at by Father- oh wait, that was his life already, hah. 

Seriously. He was beginning to hate this place. 

Zagreus groaned loudly from his despondent sprawl on the floor, directly blocking foot traffic to the lounge. Or, an attempt. The shades merely hovered over him without noticing he was there, and that Fury lady, Meg or something, just stepped over him without so much as a downwards glance. Ignored as soundly as the floor as he was languishing on.

Maybe he was the god of invisibility. God of… being ignored? God of Unimportance? 

“Boy!” Father’s voice echoed down the hallway, clear and well-projected despite the distance separating them. Zagreus wrinkled his nose on reflex at the sound of it, “Stop making a nuisance of yourself!”

Ugh. 

Zagreus debated ignoring him, but knowing his luck Father might actually heave himself out from behind his desk and drag him into pointless busywork by his ankles, so he sluggishly got to his feet and shuffled off;  _ away _ from the main hall. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with Father today. 

“Not that I’m in the mood to deal with him any other day,” Zagreus muttered under his breath, passing the hallway leading to his quarters. He was sick of staring at his room’s walls too, and he already slept for what felt like an eternity to pass the time. 

(He had slept so long, in fact, that Mother had roused him out of concern, thinking him ill. Thing is he was ill: ill from  _ BOREDOM _ )

No, he wasn’t in the mood to stew in his room either. 

Zagreus reached the end of the corridor, frowning at the massive, iron-wrought gates that always barred his way when he wandered over here. They were chained shut, not that he had ever seen them otherwise-

_ (Or, had he? Maybe? He vaguely remembered once, a very long time ago, though the memory was fuzzy and indistinct-) _

-but he could see the dark, overgrown garden beyond, the thick canopy of the trees drowning out any ambient light the Underworld could get. It looked wild and untamed, neglected, but the faintest scent of living greenery could be sensed under all that decaying vegetation. 

Zagreus idly tugged at one of the chains. They were thick, the gate wasn’t opening anytime soon but… 

But the bars were widely spaced. An adult had no hope of wriggling through, but a child…? Yeah, Zagreus could probably squirm through the gaps, maybe. He might get stuck though, and then Father would have something new to yell at him about. Either way, it was something to do. 

Zagreus looked about to check the coast was clear. A few shades were loitering about the corridor, but they were lethargic and apathetic, not paying him any mind. Taking advantage, he crouched down, reaching through the bar with one arm and started to squirm through. 

It was a tight fit. 

A  _ veeeeeery _ tight fit. 

But he got through (after some wriggling, cursing, and kicking of the feet. The gate rattled from his squirming so much he was amazed no one came to investigate), his hands and knees meeting coarse, dry grass and crumbling soil. The sensation felt… weird, and the dust he kicked up made his nose itch. He barely held back a sneeze. 

But he was in the  _ forbidden garden _ . 

(Or, he assumed it was forbidden, what with all the chains and the overwhelming neglect hanging about the place) 

Zagreus hopped to his feet, dusting his red tunics down as he curiously ventured into the garden. The grass was long but yellowed and dry, the edges sharp and crackling beneath his feet, easily catching fire, leaving a trail of scorched footprints in his wake as he approached the closest set of trees. 

The bark was gnarled and brittle, and Zagreus curiously picked at it, tilting his head as he patted at the tree. He’d never  _ touched _ one before. It felt weird, rough and hard, and shed little tiny broken bits of black when he rubbed his hand over it. Some cracks in the bark had hard, dark yellow lumps oozing out of them. It smelled strongly of… something. Not unpleasant, but weird. Alien. 

“Don’t plants need sunlight?” he mused, remembering Father telling him that when Zagreus complained about all the flowers in the House being undead, “Maybe these trees are undead too.”

Or not? They didn’t  _ feel _ like the undead flowers, but… hm. 

He looked up. The branches were thick with dark leaves, and nestled amongst them were small red fruits. They were so high up, though, he’d need to climb to grab one, and the bark offered no clear handholds for him to reach the lowest branch. 

Maybe some have dropped on the floor?

Excited at the thought of a bizarre treasure hunt, just with Mystery Red Fruit instead of gems, Zagreus began hunting through the twisted, gnarled roots jutting out from the long grass. It was completely different to the hard, polished floors of the House, the grass hiding strange, yellow and white flowers, and buzzing insects that flew away when he disturbed their hiding places. When he ventured deeper into the garden, he found other things as well; a stone bench covered in overgrown ivy with vicious red thorns, a dry fountain fashioned into the shape of some strange animal with branched horns, cracked stone that was once a pathway, spiralling in a meandering path amongst the trees. 

It must’ve looked pretty, before the garden grew wild. 

“But, why’s there a garden here?” Zagreus mused to himself, stopping by the bench to curiously poke at the thorned ivy, “Father’s not the type...”

He prodded a thorn too hard. It bit hard into the pad of his finger, and he hissed as he quickly drew back, shaking it out as a few droplets fell into the grass at his feet. 

“ _ Ow, _ stupid thorns…” he grumbled, rubbing his thumb over the wound and watching it slowly seal shut, leaving only a smear of drying blood. Just a small cut, but it was lame that a tiny thorn could do that to him. He thought gods were meant to be super tough- 

“ _ Zagreus _ .”

“ _ Arghck!” _

Though he would vehemently deny it later, Zagreus yelped shrilly from surprise, not expecting that stern, cold voice practically  _ whispering _ down his ear. He almost leapt right out of his skin, saved from an embarrassing face-plant into the thorny bench before him by a strong hand snatching the back of his tunic. 

“W-Wha-!?” he squawked, pinwheeling his arms as he twisted in the grip, looking up to see- “ _ Than!” _

Than looked down at him with a frown, not looking at all pleased with him. Uh oh, that meant Zagreus had done something  _ naughty _ . He didn’t care when Father scolded him, but he hated it when Than did. Urgh. 

Zagreus immediately tried putting on the childish charms, splashing an innocent look on his face as he stammered; “Ah, uh, what a surprise! I didn’t know you visited the garden too, Than!”

“You’re not meant to be in here, Zag,” Than said, his grip not loosening in the slightest. 

Blood and Darkness. 

“O-Oh? I’m not?” Zagreus laughed sheepishly, “I had no idea~!”

“Tsk,” Than finally let him go, Zagreus discreetly taking a few steps out of grabbing distance the moment he did, “What, the chains on the gate not give it away? This garden is off-limits to everyone, Zag, including you.”

Zagreus did not point out that if the garden was off-limits, then Than was also breaking the rules right now, standing here with him. It would just get him another  _ ‘tsk’ _ and Than going off on a tangent about how ‘he’ll get in a lot of trouble trying to bail Zag out of whatever mischief he was up to this time and blah blah  _ blaaaaaaah’ _ . 

He adored Than, really, but he was such a workaholic and got too caught up with not rocking the boat with Father, even if that old windbag was more bark than bite nowadays.

(It was just a very loud, persistent bark that never left you alone. Zagreus would know, he practically heard his father lecturing him in his  _ dreams _ (whenever he was bored enough to sleep, that is)) 

“Why is it off-limits?” Zagreus asked instead, “Is Father embarrassed about how poorly he’s managed it or what?”

Than made a complicated expression, “It’s… old history. Before you. Look, let’s just get out of here before your father catches us.”

“He’d have to notice I was missing first,” Zagreus muttered, and winced when he caught Than’s disapproving frown, “Ah, I’m joking. Joking.” 

“...” Than crossed his arms, pinning him down with a sharp, intense look that had Zagreus fidgeting, lowering his gaze to the grass at his feet. It was smouldering beneath his burning soles. 

“...you’ve been fighting with your father a lot recently,” Than said slowly, awkwardly, clearly not comfortable with the subject, “Is something wrong?”

Zagreus stayed quiet. 

He wasn’t sure how to broach the subject with Than. Despite the two of them sharing a very close bond, their opinions were polar opposites when it came to the ‘House Situation’. Than always told him to help Father with his work, to just take his time and that when he finally matured into an adult he’ll know his place in the House and everything will work out. Well, that might’ve worked for Than, but it wasn’t working for  _ Zagreus. _

He just felt like he didn’t belong here. He was the god of nothing. If anything, he was the god of ‘being Lord Hades’s son’, which was  _ worse _ than nothing. It was downright  _ suffocating _ , under Father’s shadow, and one day Zagreus felt like he was just gonna snap and go crazy or scream if he had to endure this for the rest of eternity. 

Zagreus thought all of this, but didn’t say it. Saying it aloud would make it too real, saying it to  _ Than _ would just invite… awkwardness and… well, Than was always busy, and in these rare moments where he wasn’t working, he shouldn’t have to handle Zagreus’s weird emotional baggage too. Right? Right. That sounded right. 

So, he smoothed his tunics down after a lengthy, tense silence, bottled everything up nice and tight, and looked up at Than with a carefree smile; “Nothing’s wrong! I just like ruffling his feathers. Someone needs to stand up to Father from time to time, or he’ll get bored.” 

Than’s expression went flat, “Bored?”

“Mhm,” Zagreus linked his fingers behind his head, the leaves of his laurels hot against his palms, “I’m the only bit of excitement he gets in life, nowadays. Or, er, what counts as a life here.” 

Than studied him for a moment and Zagreus kept his smile up, until his friend finally heaved a tired sigh. 

“ _ Tsk, _ you need to stop being such a brat,” Than said, the subtle tension in his shoulders easing up at the conversation moved to less turbulent waters, “You’re still a child, but that’s no excuse to be an ill-behaved one.”

“What? No, I need to milk it for all it’s worth,” Zagreus said, “Once I’m grown up, I can’t get away with this anymore!”

“And the House will rejoice when such a time comes,” Than said dryly, “Your antics aren’t cute, despite what you think.” 

“They  _ are _ , they’re adorable,” Zagreus said pompously, sticking his nose up, “Mother seems to think so.”

“Mother is too kind to call you a deadbeat to your face,” Than said, flicking him on the forehead, “Now, stop trying to distract me, Zag. C’mon. Let’s get out of here.”

Zagreus mock-grumbled, but obediently took Than’s offered hand, “Are you going to tele-”

The world warped with a whooshing surge of green. Zagreus’s stomach felt like it was trying to turn inside out and compress all at the same time as the garden winked out and his room winked  _ in _ in the span of a split second. His brain barely caught up with it and he coughed out a short, hiccupping noise as he  _ just _ managed to stop his motion sickness from turning into  _ actual _ sick.

“...port…” Zagreus finished queasily, “Urgh.” 

Than let go of his hand and discreetly stepped out of potential splashing range, “Good. It seems he didn’t notice us there. Now then…” The air’s temperature dropped, a sure sign of an impending teleport.

“Wait, you’re going already?” Zagreus asked, quickly shaking off the lingering nausea, “But-”

“I’m busy, Zag,” Than said, a bit sharper than usual, though his expression softened a fraction when Zagreus wilted, “Besides, haven’t you got your own work to get back to?”

Zagreus thought of the pointless forms sitting on his desk, of unimportant, dull matters that made his eyes glaze over the second he tried to read them. That wasn’t work, it was cruel and unusual torture. 

“... I guess,” he said, not bothering to say this to Than. He’d just tell him to get on with it anyways. Workaholic, “I have some work…”

“Then get to it. I’ll play with you later, when I get back,” Than promised (one that had a 50% chance of being broken or amended because of ‘work’), “See you later.”

“Ah, Than-” A flare of green, a chilly gust, and… it was just Zagreus in his room again, talking to himself,  _ again, _ “Uh, yeah, bye.”

The room was exactly how it was when he left it this… morning? Last night? Whatever time it was. Clothes strewn on the floor, his bed unmade where Mother roused him earlier, a book on mortal agriculture left open on his pillow. Right, he should finish that book. Than got it for him, but the writing was very stilted and dense. It was hard for him to parse at times. 

...it was something to do.

Zagreus climbed back into bed, took his time to get himself comfortable, propped up on his pillows with the book open on his lap, squinting at the cramped, swirling handwriting. He didn’t understand half of these terms, and for some reason the author thought beans held the souls of dead mortals and that was why they should never be eaten, which was downright weird. Was that an actual thing or a superstition? 

Haunted beans aside, Zagreus did find the idea of agriculture oddly intriguing. He kind of wanted to give it a go, planting a seed, caring for it and having something grow, even if… well, it’d be impossible down here, what with all the death and lack of sunlight and water. Still, the itch stayed, and Zagreus closed his book with a sigh, dropping it carelessly onto the floor. 

“When I’m older,” he muttered, “Maybe Father will let me go outside. Than gets to go out, so maybe…”

But, if he’s the god of  _ nothing, _ probably not. Father was so adamant he could never leave, that his place was  _ here, _ trapped behind these walls. Zagreus was a child, but even he knew there was something not right about that. Not allowed to leave at all? Why? How come? It was fine for Than and the others to go roaming about the Underworld, but not him? Why? 

It probably had something to do with  _ him. _ His weird, red blood, his slow growth, his lacking strength and powers compared to the other immortals here. Zagreus just… lacked a lot, and maybe Father thought… 

… well, not that it mattered. 

“ _ Arrrgh! _ ” Zagreus sat upright, throwing his arms up, “No, I won’t be stuck here forever! I’ll go outside once I’m older, whether Father likes it or not!” 

Besides, it was just Father being his weird over-controlling self. There probably wasn’t some big conspiracy as to why Zagreus was put on such a short, restricting leash, a conspiracy that he would one day discover and kickstart a series of unfortunate events. 

...all this self-isolation was making him paranoid. 

“I should go pester Hypnos,” Zagreus decided, sliding off his bed and leaving it messier than before. He ignored it, “Oh, maybe that’s what I am: the God of Being A Nuisance.”

Someone needed to keep these people on their toes, after all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a) Mother is Nyx, since obvs this is before Zag knows Nyx isn't his birth mother. This also means atm he thinks Than and Hypnos are his half-brothers since, well, same mother  
> b) I SEE THAT GARDEN NEAR THE LOUNGE i wonder if we'll ever get to visit it ingame hmmm  
> c) this House needs family therapy or smth jfc  
> d) guestimating a timeline is so hard sometimes but ye zag is soon gonna hit his TROUBLED TEENS in this chapter so ye 
> 
> also thanks to everyone who commented and kudos'd~ i'm glad people are enjoying my stuff!

**Author's Note:**

> this is me dippy toeing into the Hades fandom. I so very much enjoy this game and the characters and am gripped with an urge to do a few drabbles here and there. it's not chronological order so it'll bounce about the timeline a bit, and the main pairing will be thanatos/zagreus.


End file.
